tisfactory to
both, the drum sounded 'the roll,' and Crosby had time only to press
the hand of his old friend, which he did with affection. He was soon
on his way--sadly depressed for a time, lest his father should hear
his story, without the appropriate explanation; but he comforted
himself that he was doing his duty to his country--and, perhaps,
thought he, a few months may give us the victory, and then my father
and friends will know all, and will love me the better for the part I
am acting.

"The party at length reached Fishkill, and were conducted to an old
Dutch church, where they were confined and strictly watched.

"Within a few days, the committee of safety arrived in the village, to
examine the prisoners more strictly. Crosby, in his turn, was summoned
to appear. But in respect to him, the committee only consulted how he
might escape. There were difficulties in every plan they could think
of--there was danger--great danger; yet they could not appear to
favour him--and their advice to him was, to run the hazard of an
attempt by night, in the best way he could contrive. And should he be
so fortunate as to escape, he might find a safe retreat with a Mr. ----,
who lived at some distance.

"Crosby, at length, thought of a plan. Near the north-west corner of
the church was a window, from which he contrived to draw the
fastenings, so that he could open it. Near this window, stood a large
willow tree, whose deep shade would conceal him till he could have
opportunity to escape unobserved.

"The night, at length, approached, in which he determined to put his
plan into execution. But what if he should fail?--it might be the last
of his earthly existence.

"About dark, the sentinels were stationed, as usual, round the house.
They were four in number.

"Before midnight, all was still. Officers and soldiers were asleep.
Crosby rose, and holding his chains, so that they should not clink,
crept softly to the window, which he raised. Fast did his heart beat,
while doing this--but faster still as he slid to the ground, beneath
the willow tree.

"A sentinel was at no great distance. For a moment, he stopped--
arrested by the noise--he even turned--listened--looked--but all was
now silent there--and thinking himself mistaken, he sung aloud '_All's
well_,' and onward he marched, still farther from the place of
Crosby's concealment.

"Now, thought he, is the moment--the only moment, perhaps, which I
shall have; creeping